Just So He Knew
by Helix Spencer
Summary: Ben pays his respects to the one arguably who started it all. Rated K-Plus. Spoilers, kind of. Enjoy!


**A/N: Way short author's note! Please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own it. Or Party City.**

* * *

"...and after we found the Templar Treasure, we got roped into this scheme to help find...well, El Dorado."

No answer. But, of course, there wouldn't be.

"It's crazy, I know. But it's real. As real as you and I-" Ben caught himself. "Well, as real as me. You haven't been _here_ physically for a while..." He cleared his throat, continuing. "And it's _huge_. Just miles and miles of caves and tunnels. Even bigger than Chichén Itzá, probably."

 _They're going to come back any second now. Hurry up._

"I really should have visited sooner, to tell you about it. I don't know why I've put it off for so long. I suppose that I was afraid that Riley and Abigail would've thought it was weird." He grimaced. "And I guess that's because it _is_ weird. Talking to you like you're really here, and you're not. And I _know_ that."

Ben paced a little more furiously, and stuck his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. He didn't think he'd ever felt less eloquent in his entire life.

But he ignored his discomfort, paused-and his shoulders fell. "I dunno, alright? I don't know why I'm even here." Then he answered his own question. _"Yes,_ because they wanted to come. That's not why I'm standing here and talking to you, when you'll never answer me...but the idea that you needed to know wouldn't leave me alone. So here we are."

He sighed, remembering it.

"It was _so_ beautiful. It's like nothing you could ever even imagine."

Ben stopped completely, and regarded the statue. It was proud and striking, with a brisk, lofty attitude right in the set of the hard shoulders-easily recognizable, because that's how Ian used to carry himself. Sure, it was a strange way to commission a piece of art, especially to remember someone by, but it really was something else.

A flash of blonde hair snatched his attention. And following that, the muffled, tumbling jingle of car keys in a pocket.

 _Ferrari_ car keys.

Then, he knew what to say-what he'd been trying to articulate the entire time.

He lowered his voice and met the statue's pale eyes carefully.

"I know what it's like be called crazy for believing in something. Hopefully you can rest in peace, now that someone's found it," he finished. "Just...so you know."

"Ben!"

He turned. Abigail was striding toward him with Riley at her heels. She seemed harried.

"Hey," he murmured. "Sorry I took so long-I kind of got lost."

Riley narrowed his eyes at him, sensing the weak lie, but either Abigail could not tell or simply just didn't care.

"We've been looking all over for you," she frowned. "The museum's going to close in a few minutes, you know."

He hadn't realized it was this late. "I'm sorry-"

Riley cut him off. "What were you doing, just then? I heard you, you were talking."

"I wasn't," Ben defended, glaring at him.

"Yeah, you were," Riley muttered-but dropped it.

"General Custer, yes?" Abigail hummed, and moved behind him to examine the statue.

Ben started. "What? Oh, yeah, yeah. The museum moved him here temporarily from the Smithsonian's storage because of the Cibola exhibit."

"That's appropriate," she commented. "My, what a resemblance!"

"It's _creepy,_ " Riley corrected shrewdly.

Ben _did_ have to admit that it was a little more realistic-looking than was probably strictly necessary, but the accuracy was a credit to the artist, at least.

"Maybe before we leave we can go visit the Pharaoh's exhibit?" Abigail proposed. "I read that Ahkmenrah used to be very handsome once..."

They walked away, toward the Columbus statue at the other end of the hall. The slight, lovely woman held hands with the tall, cautious one-the little family's clear leader. The youngest of the three, in the smart velvet jacket, jogged on his left.

And they happily didn't see the two surprised drops of hot wax that rolled down General Custer's face. They reflected off of the muted gold sunset through the street-facing window.

Which-not that they noticed, because they were already gone-was secured shut with liberal amounts of duct tape.

* * *

 **Did anybody think that he was talking to his Grandfather's grave at first? That's what I was going for-so I hope I didn't miss my mark, lol. If you are inspired to do so, please review!**


End file.
